


Draco Malfoy and The Yule Ball

by ihavetodothis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:59:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavetodothis/pseuds/ihavetodothis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a million reasons why Draco's first ball is an underwhelming atrocity -- but, deep down, he knows that his disappointment stems from something (or someone) else entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco Malfoy and The Yule Ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acciomalfoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciomalfoy/gifts), [alizarincrims0n](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alizarincrims0n/gifts).



> [Read it on Ffn](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11647436/1/Draco-Malfoy-and-The-Yule-Ball)   
>  [Read it on Tumblr](http://viktorkrampus.tumblr.com/post/134428866196/the-yule-ball)

          “Would the four champions please make their way to the center of the floor?” Professor McGonagall asked, her voice booming with magically-enhanced volume. Draco continued to stand where he was, staring over Pansy’s shoulder at the ever-messy mane of dark hair that could only be Harry Potter. Potter was tripping over himself while being pulled toward the middle of the room by Parvati Patil, who was wearing some sort of hand-me-down cultural robes — a very appropriate match for her date, Draco thought with a smirk that didn’t last very long.

          “Come on, Draco. The Triwizard chumps are the only ones allowed on the floor right now,” Pansy’s voice drifted up to his ears through the loud, tasteless music and murmurs of excited students. As though he hadn’t heard Pansy, Draco kept his eyes narrowed at Potter, scrutinizing the crisp cut of his black and white robes as well as the tapering of hair at his nape and the delicate smoothness of it, regardless of its disarray… “What are you doing? We have to go.”

          With a final, fleeting glance at Harry’s porcelain hand, which had moved up to Patil’s waist, Draco tore his eyes away. He felt ill all of a sudden, as though he’d eaten something rotten, which wouldn’t surprise him. Hogwarts’ food was always incredibly sub-par compared with the food his elves served at home.

          But, as Pansy led him out of the spotlights and into the crowd of non-champions, Draco started to sweat even against the comfortable chill in the room. His heart seemed tight and almost fragile, as though if someone so much as tapped it with one finger, it would crumble away into tiny shards of broken clay.

          “Theo thinks she’s really pretty, that Patil girl. I think she’s got a big nose…and those robes are a disaster. Just because they’re cultural doesn’t mean they’re in good taste,” Pansy commented pompously, her nose pointed upward in disagreement.

          Before he could stop himself, Draco was imagining his own hand on Harry’s shoulder, silky fabric brushing the pads of his fingertips, and then he wondered what Potter and Patil would do afterward — would they part ways with a polite smile? Would they sneak off to an abandoned corridor and snog like most people in their year were likely to do?

          The thought of it made Draco’s fists clench and his eyes sought Potter out again. He had an overwhelming urge to pull out his wand and hex Harry Potter and Parvati Patil into oblivion, but he had to remember who and where he was.

          There were four pairs of teenagers twirling elegantly in the center of the floor, Potter among them, and the rest of the students attending the ball were gathered around the champions, watching them with an admiration Malfoy ached to achieve.

          Eventually, he noticed Pansy by his side, her mouth moving rapidly and eyebrows turned downward into an ugly scowl.

          “ — Granger with one good hex and that hideous dress would be ripped to shreds…Draco? Are you even listening to me?”

          “This ball is pathetic. I bet Filch’s cat could decorate the hall better than this. Let’s get out of here before we actually have to participate,” Draco spat bitterly as he grabbed Pansy by the arm and started to walk through the crowd.

          “You don’t want to dance? I thought we could at least stay for another song, and then we —”

          “Dance with the rest of these peons? I don’t see the point.”

          “I’ll have you know I spent two hours getting ready for this ball. I’d like to stay for at least a dance.”

          Halfway to the door, Draco took one last look at Potter, who was now bowing and walking back into the crowd. The uncomfortable smirk on his face made Draco’s blood boil and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed to get some fresh air; it was too hot and stuffy in this room filled with bodies.

          “Suit yourself. I’m going outside.”

          “What? But — Draco!”

          She reached her arm out to stop him, but he was already walking stiffly into the outside corridor.


End file.
